#harwin breakbones strong
Text
Pretty like the sun
warnings: reader described as having long, silver hair; no use of y/n; female!reader; Targaryen!reader; sneaking around with harwin; little sliver of angst but that’s it; fluff; not proofread sorry
summary: you spend a morning with harwin.
author’s note: I miss harwin strong. that is all.
The soft, early morning light poked through the thin fabric covering your window. You stirred in bed, eyes scrunching tighter together as you attempted to will yourself back asleep.
“Good morning,” Harwin’s chest rumbled with the sound of his voice. He was almost whispering, as if afraid to spook you. One of his hands trailed up your back, his fingers ghosting over your bare skin.
“Mhm,” you grumbled, refusing to open your eyes. You snuggled closer to his side, your head laid right over his heart. The reassuring rhythm of its beat brought a small smile to your lips.
“What time is it?” You asked after a moment of comfortable silence, your eyes still closed. You could feel the heat of the sun now, its rays more intense as it rose in the sky.
“Almost time for me to go,” he replied. The hand trailing up your spine moved to rest in your hair, his fingers lightly scratching at your scalp. His free hand moved over your body, looping around you and pulling you impossibly closer.
It was always like this in the mornings you spent together. Hushed words and warm touches. The two of you tangled together, holding each other as close as possible. This time was sacred to the both of you. It was stolen from the rest of the Keep, something just for the two of you to share, damning the rest of them.
“Do you have to?” You asked, but you already knew the answer as you finally opened your eyes. You tilted your head back to look up at your lover. His eyes met yours, and he gave a small smile as he nodded.
“You know I do, Princess. I cannot be caught in here, your father would have my head.”
You rolled your eyes as you turned your head to plant a kiss to his sternum. He hummed in contentment.
“You underestimate my power in this keep, Ser. At most, my father would have your finger. Maybe a hand, if it were a bad day for the King,” you grinned as you teased him, meeting his gaze once more.
It was Harwin’s turn to roll his eyes now. His fingers dug deeper into your scalp, massaging the skin there. You groaned and swatted his hand away, knowing his actions would put you back to sleep.
As much as you wanted to succumb to the welcoming embrace of slumber once more, you knew you’d regret it. Harwin wouldn’t want to wake you, and so he’d slip from the room quietly, depriving you of the chance to wish his farewell. You despised it when he did that– and he knew as much, yet he still tried.
He told you once that he hated seeing the look in your eyes as he left, and that’s why he tried to lull you back to sleep. He didn’t want to watch the sadness and anger seep into your expression as it did every time he snuck away.
It wasn’t sadness and anger aimed towards him, of course. It was at this whole situation– the fact that you two had to hide your affections. The King had made it quite clear you were to remain untouched and unmarried until your sister, Rhaenyra, found a match.
You disobeyed his wishes, but what the King didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him– at least that’s what you believed.
“Where do they have you stationed today?” You questioned the man below you as you turned your gaze to the villainous window that disturbed the peace the night gave both of you. “Guarding ‘Nyra again?”
“Guarding you, actually,” he said, and you sighed.
Having your lover guard you was a double-edged sword. You were with him all day, but you were not allowed to truly be with him. It was almost torture, how the man you loved was right beside you and you couldn’t touch him. You couldn’t even speak to him the way you wanted. You had to remain proper, as did he, and you had to keep up this carefully constructed facade of a princess and her loyal guard.
“You do not wish to be accompanied by me today?” He asked, and you finally pushed yourself up, your hand resting on his chest to support yourself.
The arm he had looped around you fell, his grip now at your waist. His thumb caressed the skin there as he watched your face with concern. His other hand remained in your hair, moving to brush strands of silver from your eyes.
“You know that is not the issue,” you told him.
“Sometimes it is the issue. Remember just a fortnight ago, when you asked for another guard just because I slipped out the night before?”
“You did not tell me you had to go,” you said as you shuffled over to the other side of the bed. His hands retracted from your body to let you move.
“I was not aware I needed to ask your permission to get a glass of water,” he retorted, and you scoffed.
“The last time you snuck out during the night, it was because you were sent to guard my sister for her two week journey to see whoever that lord was. Lannister? Baratheon? I do not recall— but it does not matter. You did not tell me you were leaving!”
“Love–” he began, but you spoke again.
“No, I know, Harwin. You did not know either. I am not trying to fight,” you reached a hand towards him, which he clasped in one of his own. His fingers intertwined with yours, and you smiled.
“I just worry for you. I fear one day you will slip out before I can say goodbye, and I will never see you again.”
Harwin frowned, his eyes trained on you as he gave your hand a small squeeze. You inhaled deeply. “I do not want to keep sneaking around,” you admitted.
“Nor do I, but–” he began.
“But we must,” you finished his sentence with a sigh. “Just until my sister finally meets her match. Which will probably be after we are all dead.”
Harwin laughed and used his grip on your hand to pull you back into him. You gave a sound of surprise as you fell onto his chest, both his hands snaking around your body to keep you glued to him.
“The Princess will wed soon, my love. Your father will make sure of it. And if not, then I am sure you will make sure of it. Gods help Rhaenyra if it gets to that point. You are quite scary when you are angry.”
“As scary as Daemon?” You questioned, your eyebrows raised as you glanced up at Harwin. A teasing grin painted your lips.
“Oh, much scarier. The Rogue Prince wishes he was as terrifying as you.”
“Careful, Ser,” you giggled. “My uncle would feed you to Caraxes for such an insult.”
“It would be an honorable death, dying to defend my Princess.”
You shuffled upwards so that your face was right above his. Your hair fell around the both of you, creating another barrier the sun streaming through the window fought to break through.
“You are insufferable,” you whispered, your nose brushing his.
“Am I?” He asked with a grin.
“Mhm,” you hummed in answer before lowering your lips to his.
The kiss lasted a few wonderful, peaceful seconds before a sobering knock sounded at the door.
“Princess!” Your lady-in-waiting called from behind the door, her knock becoming louder as she tried to rouse you. Unbeknownst to her, you were very awake at the moment.
Your eyes widened as you looked down at your lover who was very much naked, very much still in your bed, and very much late to his post.
“Princess, are you awake? Are you in there? I don’t see Ser Harwin out here. Are you alright?” You could hear panic begin to sneak into the woman’s tone. You knew how it looked to her– a locked door, no guard, and a silent princess? She probably thought you were dead.
You pulled yourself from Harwin’s embrace once more and hurried out of bed, reaching for the night clothes you had discarded the night before. Harwin followed suit in rushing from bed. He began grabbing at clothes and armor, trying to be silent but quick as he redressed.
“I’m awake!” You shouted to your lady-in-waiting as you ran a hand through your hair. You turned to watch as Harwin gave up on buttoning his shirt and began gathering his armor in his hands.
“You have got to go!” You whisper-shouted at him.
“I am trying! This damn armor–” he groaned as he nearly dropped his metal chest plate. You cringed as you watched his barely catch it, releasing a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. That sound would’ve had your lady busting down your door in an instant.
“Princess, are you alright in there?” You heard your lady ask as the door knob jiggled.
“Quite!” You yelled back, your pitch rising in panic. You rushed to Harwin’s side and began snatching up the remaining pieces of his armor. You ushered him to the secret passage in your room, prying open the door and all but pushing him inside. “Just looking for something!”
You pushed the armor in your hands into Harwin’s, who was looking at you with a wide grin.
“What?” You asked incredulously, curious as to how he could be smiling at being nearly caught.
“Looking a little disheveled, Princess.”
“Gods, go!” You scolded him with no real bite to your words. You shoved at his broad shoulders, careful not to disturb the mountain of metal in his arms.
He gave a quiet laugh as he swiftly ducked down to kiss your forehead. “See you soon, Princess.”
With that, he disappeared down the dark passageway and you all but slammed the door closed. You quickly concealed it once more before smoothing down your nightdress, taking a deep breath, and opening the door for your lady-in-waiting.
“Gods, I thought you were being killed!” She cried, her voice shrill as she surged into the room.
You gave a breathless laugh as you shut the door behind her, noticing a forgotten trinket of Harwin’s laying on the stone floor. You swiftly kicked it under your wardrobe before your lady turned to face you.
“Where was Ser Harwin? He was not by your door,” she questioned as she began to assess your appearance.
“Oh, I sent him to fetch me a glass of water well before you arrived. He never returned. I suppose he was roped into something more important.”
“Hm,” your lady hummed, unconvinced, but she didn’t press the topic further.
The two of you fell into comfortable silence as you went through your routine of dressing.
Finally, as your lady finished clasping a ruby necklace around your neck, she cleared her throat to speak.
“Did he at least take all his armor with him this time?”
Your cheeks turned a deep red, and your lady laughed.
#house of the dragon#harwin strong#hotd#ser harwin strong#house of the dragon fic#harwin strong x reader#rhaenyra targaryen#ser harwin strong x reader#harwin breakbones#harwin breakbones strong#ser harwin breakbones#ser harwin#ser harwin x reader#harwin strong imagine#harwin strong x you#targaryen!reader#princess!reader#game of thrones fluff#house of the dragon season 2#house of the dragon fluff#harwin strong fluff#harwin/reader#harwin strong/reader
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Since you mentioned Harwin… (smut pleek)
Princess | Harwin Strong
i had no idea what you wanted other than *harwin* so i hope you like this!! (tho the title sucks so bad but i’m too lazy to think of a better one)
warnings: smut, 18+, mentions of loss of virginity?, bits of fluff ig, fem!reader (?) x harwin but other than that there’s no specifications!
idk how to do this warning shit ngl. also my first time writing smut and you didn’t really specify so… also it’s not proof read at all so read at your own risk
summary: the morning after ser harwin breakbones carries his princess to safety and has his way with her
word count: 1.2k (ish)
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Whispers of dawn kissed her cheeks, bursts of gold rallying against the dark of her closed eyes, and the Princess smiled against the softness of her pillow as she registered the warm weight slung over her bare hips.
Harwin’s calloused hand was splayed against her stomach, holding her close throughout the night and break of day. Her smile grew wider as he grumbled unintelligibly and his grip tightened. She could only spare half a thought for her dear sister - poor Rhaenyra stuck with a heartbroken Laenor on her wedding night - as she felt her new found lover stir.
“Good morning, Princess.”
His voice, deep and still cloaked in sleep, was laced with a sense of smug satisfaction she would have found insufferable on anyone else. Luckily for Ser Harwin Strong, she found him far too endearing for her own good. “Good morning, Ser.”
She could feel his lazy grin against her shoulder as he peppered gentle kisses along her smooth skin. “So proper,” he teased as his kisses reached the slope of her neck.
“I’m a Princess,” she sniffed, tilting her head.
He smirked and bit her neck lightly, “A dirty Princess, what would your father think?”
Holding in her whimper, the Princess arched a brow despite knowing he couldn’t possibly see it. “I’d rather not think of my father at all, thank you.”
Harwin hummed as he nuzzled her jawline. His heated breath made her shiver and his grin widened. Last night felt like a dream - one he’d had many, many times over the past few moons. A dream that was often accompanied by his hand in his trousers after. King Viserys would have his head on a spike if he ever found out just what the knight had done to his precious daughter, but Harwin couldn’t find it in him to care much. He had the most beautiful woman in Westeros in his arms and he wasn’t about to let any man - King or not - stop him from relishing this moment.
She turned to face him and his heart stuttered at the softness in her eyes as she smiled. No one had looked at him like that before, certainly not a Princess.
“What?”
His own smile turned just as soft. “You’re beautiful.”
She snorted lightly and he had to stop himself from looking like a complete idiot and confessing his love and adoration at the sound. “Rhaenyra is the Realm’s Delight.”
He couldn’t help himself; he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead and grasped her chin delicately in his large hand. Gods when had he last been this gentle with anyone? She seemed so small compared to him - although most people were small to him - and his chest felt tight in the best possible way as he looked at her. “You are the most breathtaking woman I have ever seen.”
A blush crept up her neck and Harwin smiled smugly at the sight. She had been so confident the night prior, seeing her uncharacteristic shyness before him now made his cock stiffen and, judging by her deepening flush, she could feel it too. “You’re the first man I’ve lain with,” she admitted.
He didn’t tell her that he hoped he’d be the only man she’d ever lie with. Instead he opted for the safer choice, “Well one union had to be consummated, Gods knows your sister’s wasn’t.”
She gasped indignantly and slapped his chest. “Ser Harwin!”
Clasping her hand to his chest, he leaned over. “Yes, Princess?” He was lying fully on top of her now and he felt his pride swell as her eyes flickered to his lips.
“You’re incorrigible.”
“I figured that having fucked the King’s daughter, a few jests on his heir’s behalf couldn’t make things much worse.” He grinned as she gaped up at him and took the opportunity to finally kiss her lips again.
She moaned quietly as she parted her lips for his tongue. Harwin made her feel a thousand things at once. She couldn’t tell if she was excited or scared or shy or offended anymore, all she knew for certain was the very obvious effect he had on her body.
The Princess had resigned herself to admiring the knight from afar until he had carried her to her rooms during the commotion at Rhaenyra’s wedding. Having him in her rooms after saving her like that… how was she meant to resist him?
She was no damsel in need of saving like in one of the stories her mother had told her as a child, but being tossed over his strong shoulder after he had immediately stepped into the fray to save her set off the butterflies in her stomach.
It was wrong. Her father would lose his mind if he found out, especially after the recent rumours of her sister’s indiscretions. But she couldn’t ignore the thought that he might consent to a match between them and her groan as Harwin slipped his hand between her thighs was far louder than she had expected.
“You’re so wet for me, Princess.”
She groaned again and shut her eyes, unable to stop herself from grinding against the palm of his hand as he fucked her with his fingers. Harwin didn’t bother to disguise his own groan as he watched his fingers disappear into her over and over.
“Look at me.”
It took an embarrassing amount of effort for her eyes to open and find his. His intense stare alone almost pushed her over the edge.
“You’re going to look at me while you come undone on my fingers, Princess.”
She couldn’t hold back her whimper. “Yes,” she breathed.
Harwin grinned at her. “Good girl.” He added a third finger and watched as she struggled to keep her orgasm at bay. Gods she was stunning: legs spread wide just for him, hair wild against her pillow and her chest flushed.
“Harwin.”
“Princess?”
She could barely form a sentence. “Please.”
“Use your words.”
A brilliant shade of pink covered her cheeks. She’d never felt so submissive in her life. She was a Princess, she wasn’t meant to take orders from those beneath her, and yet here she was acting like a whore - on the verge of begging - for a mere knight. Gods she loved it. “I can feel it, please.”
“Such a good Princess,” Harwin murmured as his fingers found her clitoris. Her moans were so loud he almost feared the entirety of the Red Keep would hear but he didn’t stop and he didn’t dare tell her to be quiet. “Let go for me.”
He felt her shudder around his digits and he stared, transfixed, at the way her thighs shook and her bosom heaved. Her moans gradually turned to soft whimpers and Harwin made sure she watched as he licked his fingers clean. She tasted even better than she had last night.
It took a few minutes for his Princess to catch her shaky breath and Harwin swallowed roughly as he studied the glisten of sweat on her brow. “I suppose I ought to do the honourable thing now.”
The Princess looked at him in confusion, mind still clouded with pleasure. “Honourable thing?”
He couldn’t stop himself this time. “I’m going to love you, wed you and fuck you for the rest of your life, Princess.”
#house of the dragon#harwin strong#ser harwin#harwin#harwin strong x reader#harwin x reader#rhaenyra targaryen#harwin strong smut#harwin smut#ser harwin x reader#house of the dragon imagine#hotd#harwin strong imagine#harwin imagine#smut#game of thrones#asoiaf#harwin breakbones strong#harwin breakbones#ser harwin breakbones#ser harwin strong#ser harwin strong x reader#ser harwin strong smut#ser harwin strong imagine#harwin breakbones imagine#harwin breakbones x reader#hotd season 1#targaryen reader#house targaryen#targaryen
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two swords, three holes | d.t x h.s x reader | smut
synopsis: two bisexual daddies and naive whore! reader. A longing reunion between soft!dom!Harwin, kelitsos and mean!dom!Dae Dae.
idk what about style by tswift made me type this but here we are, enjoy yourself some daddies. Also thanks to @inlovewithhisblueeyes for the title
WC: 4.9k
Warnings; double penetration (wrap before you tap) infantilism, overstimulation, anal, squirting, mlm, breeding kink, humiliation, corruption, :p, clittttt play because y’all know I’m crazy for that, multiple orgasm, multiple rounds,, spanking, rough smut, AFTERCARE! misogynistic culture, mentions of SA,
The warm crackle of the fire by the hearth seemed to have lulled you to further exhaustion, heating skin laid flush against furs in the receiving chambers. Awaiting one curly brown-haired Ser to return from his duties to your bed. The quaint cottage your patrons, or perhaps paramours had provided you with was further away from the Street of Silk, a house with walls large enough to fill with books as you learned to read and two attendants to keep you company in the day as your responsibilities only seem to resume at night. Though your abilities kept your pockets full often, opting to be more philanthropic with its expenditure. Both patrons had made one thing clear, you were to be untouched by hands that weren’t theirs.
They had found you on a particularly brutal rampage before the Tournament of the Harvest Moon. Prince Daemon, the Lord Commander of the City Watch, tore into the streets of King’s Landing with his gold cloak wearing soldiers; rounding up all knowns rapers, thieves and assailants. The perverse of the lot took advantage of the bloodied chaos as their blood rushed with the violence, with Daemon having no account for where his men had been - they too raped and brutalised with the authority of the Crown on their shoulders. Ser Harwin Strong had found you, curled into a corner as a lowly soldier towered over you. His teeth barred as he smirked with the thoughts of defiling you. Harwin had quickly taken action, reprimanding the man and dragging him back by the collar to Prince Daemon along with you as witness to his crime.
Upon their victorious return to the Flea Bottom streets, with the favoured crown sitting on Daemon’s head after winning the tourney. He treated his gold cloaks to his favourite brothel with all the women, ale and strong wines the men could stomach in one night. Chataya’s brothel had been the light of Flea Bottom that night. You worked at the very brothel, not as a whore but as a helper, while you were sold to Chataya at a very young age, her heart bled with empathy for you and raised you in her house and gave you the choice to be a whore or not.
You washed their clothes, cooked meals, cleaned rooms and counted account books with Chataya. Your curious eye often stood in the corners of these rooms dressed as a page boy, watching people delve deeper in perversions within the performative echoes from your ‘sisters’ as they pleased their customers. It was then that you spotted Prince Daemon and Ser Harwin once more, having nothing to offer them as gratitude other than bracelets made of mismatched pearls you had collected while cleaning rooms. Such innocent appreciation had made Daemon’s cock twitch within his breeches, and while Harwin picked a whore to fuck for the night. Daemon tried all his will to convince Chataya to have you - her answer remained firm throughout, it would be only if you wished it so.
Wished you did, having given your maidenhead to the handsome brunette Ser and eventually Daemon, both noblemen had you within their clutches. While they trusted Chataya’s judgement on keeping you just for them, they found it unbecoming within weeks as Daemon purchased a cottage higher up in the city to house you in. Their finest prize showered in gold and comfort, much expected to be kept to yourself and yet you always returned to your sisters. Buying them new gowns and necessities with the money Daemon gave you.
So here you were, bundled with furs in front of a painted hearth. Warm and content as you waited for Harwin to visit you. There had been three fires today in the city and four tavern brawls. The gold cloaks were always busy in ensuring the city safe, and to live up to the purpose Daemon had given them, so even as the hour of the owl struck the higher born of the city resumed to bed, the wild machinations of Flea Bottom were just to begin.
The night swayed forward, as Harwin exhaustively stumbled into your home, your handmaidens letting him into the establishment. He had trailed in to find your bed empty, and a puddle of furs and blankets pooled by the hearth, a head of hair leaking through and an apparent rise and fall of mount. You had fallen asleep waiting for him amd he couldn’t find it in his heart to wake you for his lustful needs. He scooped the bundle whole, all warm and dozed before placing you on your bed and following next you.
He pulled your limp body atop him, his larger arms engulfing you whole, you stir - whiney and apologetic - you realise you had fallen asleep. “Shh, sleep,” Harwin’s words rumbled within his bare chest, the hairs of which tickled at your cheek. The plans you had made to pleasure him tonight all washed away to sea as sleep only made you heavier, with only one thing left to be done, perhaps he would answer.
“May I ask you something, my lord,” you whispered, head lifting up to look upon his tired face. His eyes closed, lashes far prettier than your as he hummed to be permissive. “They say the fighting has grown ugly in the Stepstones, do… Do you have any word of Prince Daemon?”
His brows furrowed as he opened his eyes to look down upon you, his thumb caressed at your cheek. “He has a dragon, girl. He will be fine.”
This time you hummed, nuzzling further into the thickness of his beard, letting sleep carry you away to a world of dream as you imagined being surrounded in your paramours arms again.
Harwin patrolled the streets atop his horse, making his rounds lower into the city and keeping a watchful eye through his helmet. He caught your silhouette, dressed in a light blue gown as you mingled in the markets, spending his fortune for yet another absurd trinket no doubt instead of the pearls or gowns he expected you to buy, the last time you have bought clay moulded lizards - lizards - one of which you gifted him for becoming the Lord Commander of the City Watch before sucking his life through his cock.
“You there, girl!” Harwin’s voice boomed through the market making you flinch, you scowled at him for scaring you and yet people thought that the City Watch had yet again chosen to terrorise the innocent. “Come with me,” his voice dropped in authoritative sauve, motioning his finger to hither you towards him as he dismounted his horse.
Harwin’s hold on you was rough and yet as he dragged you towards an empty alleyway your heart thumped in your chest with excitement, your legs finding it harder to keep up with his hasty steps. Harwin pulled you in between a wall and himself, admiring you from behind his helm, you - very innocently - batted your eyelashes at him. “Have I done something wrong, Ser?” you smirked, lips pulling at the corners as you played along.
“Oh, a terrible crime,” he pushed you back against the stone wall “what do you think you are wearing?” his brow querked as his pointer and middle finger mindlessly trailed down to the low cutout of the dress, his fingers resulting in goosebumps flaring over your skin as he caressed the valley in between your breasts.
“This?” you looked down to your dress sheepishly, knowing the Dornish silhouette was a far exotic choice than anything the commoners let alone the ladies in King’s Landing wore. Gold arm cuffs were hugged around your upper arm as the ruby pendant Daemon gifted you sat against your sternum. “Do you not like it?” your question is genuine, soft. You doe eyed little thing.
“I could rip this off you as retribution, sweet girl,” he groaned, letting his head drop towards the crook of your neck “but I won’t. He whiffed in the scent of lilies in the air around you as he dragged his lips up to your ear, “on your knees, pet.”
“But- my dress,” you whined, not wanting to dirty your dress that you were sure no matter how hard you scrubbed wouldn’t be off, your bottom lip pouting out in conflict over wanting to kneel for him and the loss of your dress.
“I’ll buy you dozens more, perhaps take you Dorne myself,” he opposed, still caressing the round of your breast, letting them slip past the deep cut out.
You obliged kneeling like a well trained slut, ready with your tongue out to have your mouth stuffed. Harwin freed his cock from his breech, it laid semi hardened as you wrapped your hand around the base, tugging at it to harden alive. The warm appendage laid heavy on your tongue as his wet tip leaked its yearn slick. You suckled right on the tip, looking up at him through the lining of your eyelashes. His body hunched over, his palm laid flat against the wall as he greeted his teeth over the maddening sight of your innocent eyes looking up at him, his sweetest prize.
Your mouth sunk deeper feeling him grace the back of your mouth as your throat constricted, your cunt too pooled it’s slick within you. Wanting nothing more than to be pounded against this jagged stone wall. You bobbed away, reaching up to cradle his stones within your palm as you choked against his length. His muffled grunts echoing with the bustle noises of the city, any watchful eye would merely see a whore pleasuring a knight for two coppers, but you - you were no mere whore, you were the woman that held two noblemen by their collars.
“Ah - darling, fuck,” he hissed, the warm sensations of your mouth pleasuring him beyong compare “such a good girl,” he groaned. Holding back the urge to abruptly fuck into your mouth as his digits curled into your braided crown. His stones laid heavy and twitchy upon your hands as your eyes blazed aflame, finding much power bringing a staunch man like him so vulnerable, his lips pink and wet with his blue sea-like eyes glancing into your soul. The warm cream from his cock, spilling fast your lips as he finally rutted his hips into your mouth.
He rests his forehead onto the clenched fist resting on the wall, heaving his thudding heart to calm as you tuck him back into his breeches. Still pawing at his bountiful leather covered thighs, resting your cheek against it as you waited for him to gather his bearings. He yanked you up by your forearms, pulling out a handkerchief from his pockets to wipe at the corners of your mouth. He smiled at you, plump lips curling as he tucked his handkerchief into the belt of your dress.
“Scurry back home,” he ordered, reaching down to grasp your mound over the silks of your gown “play with your pretty cunt, keep it nice and wet.” he enunciated the ‘t’ as he crowded your air with his own. Commanding and tall “and don’t your dare fucking come.”
Even as you yet again curled into this absurdly large bed alone, filled with warmth of the furs and the freshly stoked hearth. The jasmine scent of the flowers decorating your canopy or the painted candle burning at the side of your bed, the owls hooted along with the muffled echo of the city still alive and bustling below. Keeping your galant knight away from your bed, away from your arms. To hell with the mongrels that kept him occupied so, they must always find a tavern to burn or a fight to enthral themselves with. There wasn’t any other way but to stroke your bare shoulder with your spare arm, mimicking the much coarser finger tips that often drew patterns of crescent moons or mangoes.
It has been perhaps hours since slumber consumed you whole, having curled into a rather painful position that would be sure to have your back aching in the morrow. In your drowsy and heavy state, it didn’t really matter. What made your heavy limbs hyper aware to your mind was when thunderous knocks rang down your door way past the middle of the night. Your servant girl had approached the door first, cautious as she rubbed the sleep away from her eyes, she opened the heavy steel bolt on the inside with a thud, hoping to not awaken you upstairs. The view she was graced with was terrifying to say the least, a man with face covered in soot and blood stood by the threshold. Had it not been for the burning torches above the doorway illuminating the steps below. Her scream would have awoken half of Rhaenys Hill, yet the glowing wisp of silver hair that peaked past the dirt made it highly apparent of who this person was, a patron missing from this house for over two years; Daemon Targaryen.
The uproar that followed after Daemon’s return to King’s Landing was joyous, an animalistic life of its own, Flea Bottom had provided. With Daemon’s return, their Prince returned to breathe fire into their debauchery. The night he returned, with no pages or correspondences announcing his return. Merely stopping at your doorstep still reeking of the war he had won, awry bandaging covering his up thigh and the very apparent burn scarring spreading through the right of his torso had you gasping and tears welling in the corners of your eyes as you stripped him of his armour and then clothes. Your servant Marsha had prepared a steaming hot, hot bath to wash away the pains from the brutalities he suffered, once settled in the bath. Perhaps your emotions had taken the better of you as you stepped into the tube as well, hissing at the burning contact of the milky water, still in your cream shift as Daemon protested. You lowered with a washcloth in your hand, wordlessly washing away any speck of dirt fallen victim to your eyes. What had they done to him, even more so what had he done to the assailant that might have had the daft courage to trifle with Daemon.
When you awoke the morning after, Daemon had already vanished. Though having slept with your body pulled tight against his, you had no recollection of him leaving, Marsha said he dressed in the early hours of the morning and left. Your heart stung a little, you should be accustomed to both noble men leaving and arriving at all hours of the morning and night for they had their own courtly lives to lead, a part beyond a common whore’s stature.
By the coming of the afternoon, when the sun stood at its highest and King’s Landing at its busiest, word of Daemon’s performance at court in the morrow spread through the city. The Rogue Prince, now styles the King of the Narrow Sea waltzed into the Throne Room to rub his victory into the faces of his protestors but also added a dozen sacks full of swords, axes and weapons to the throne. Keeping merely the bone and ruby crown he rested upon his head.
You dressed for him nonetheless, with no hopes that he might return at night; having been in his family’s company after three summers. Yet a letter arrived from the Red Keep, informing you to prepare the house of guests. The entirety of the gold cloaks were to descend onto your home, though a large event to host a sizable amount you were still a little wary of the men.
More helpers were acquired just for the evening as you found yourself fussing like the ladies of minor houses to impress the hood society though nothing about this night would be polite, nor proper. You wore a dark maroon dress, curtesy of the colours of house Targaryen, Daemon found it visually stirring, the ominous colour against your supple skin. With much preparation for yourself, from a bath laced with milk and sandalwood shavings - having yourself cleaned thoroughly - to the rose oil rubbed against your skin to your pinkish cheeks and lips with rogue.
The celebration was exuberant, gold cloaks accompanied with women(whores) curled around each arm flooded into the main hall of your home. Deep bellies laughter and high pitched chortle harmonised against one another, you settled comfortably on Harwin’s lap as you giggled and tuned to hear the gory tales of battles between. Taking turns to use your nibble finger and feed either Harwin or Daemon, you revelled in the attention you received. A constant was Daemon's heavier hand under yours as you mindlessly twisted his signet rings, something he took not of and loosened his rest on the table.
Daemon leaned back to whisper to Harwin as you gossiped along with a sister from Chataya’s giggling over the eccentric men she had met and the stories they told her in a lust filled state. You abruptly shrieked as you felt Harwin rise with your body in his arms as he effortlessly threw you over his shoulder. Hollers and hoots ripped through the main hall as they banged their fists against the table or whistled at their Lord Commander, his chair scraping against the stone floor as he began to carry you upstairs. Daemon rose their after.
“Now,” he announced as the chatter in the room dwindled, “forgive me lads, I’m afraid the hostess herself is a finer feast than the one she has offered us tonight.” He smirked your way as you were carried away. The men around the hall toasted your name and hollered once more as Daemon soon followed behind.
Your dress has been long discarded in some dark corner of your bed chambers, the crowd below had surely filled themselves to the brothels or taverns. Leaving but Marsha and the attendant to clean the mess left behind. Upstairs yet another scene unfolding at the foot of your bed as your stood on the balls of your feet, head swooning and occupied at the wet ministrations between yours legs. One knee resting over Harwin’s shoulder as the other being caressed by a hand - which hand was a question unanswered as you were being consumed in waves of pleasure.
Harwin’s beard tickled and rubbed against your thigh sore, his tongue feasting at the petal below. Slurping between your folds only to grace you aching, throbbing bud momentarily; refusing you of the release you longed for. Daemon settled behind you toyed with your puckered rosebud, a sensation he much missed as he himself had carved a home with his cock in your arse. Licking and spreading it open with his tongue, lovingly - teasingly letting his digit be engulfed as his others toyed with your cunt. Filling either from the paper walls separating them, Daemon found odd fascination with the way your environs moved, malleable to stretch to his will but mostly how much the brat within you fought hard against the acquiescent demeanour you possessed.
They could spend hours strumming away at your petals and holes; relishing in the sounds of your squelching cunt along with the soft kitten like mewls curbed your urge to beg. Harwin once again trapped your pearl between his lip, suckling away as you shrieked. Hips grinding as best as they could against the tight hold held against them, you wanted to finish, the tingle soon turning to pain. You yearned for that release like water to a dying plant. “Pl - please my lord,” you whined, more tears falling past your eyes.
To your horror, Harwin pulled away once more as he felt the grip of your cunny clench against his and Daemon’s fingers. You could nearly scream from how frustrated you were but all you could do was weep, mourn the longing peak that now flared into far sensitised despair in your belly. Sniffling and pouted soft bottom lip down, Daemon rose to his legs to admire the bereft look of pliant begging. “Please,” you whispered, more tears falling from your eyes as you opened them. Your eyes looking up at Daemon towering over you, “I’ll do anything, my prince,” you hiccuped, leaning into the soft caress of his hand.
Daemon’s palm curled into your wild hair, yanking back the braided crown “I’m not your prince am I?” his voice sweet, doting yet the shivering of threats, no - no he wasn’t your prince, he was your tormentor. Having grown too used to the spoiling Harwin had doted upon you. “My King,” you said, hoping to please him, enough to wash away the terrible ache in between your legs.
His hand never left your hair as he pulled you away from Harwin, yanking your clumsy limbs down to your bed. Harwin rose to his feet next, beard glistening with your juices and blue eyes blown with lust, he kissed your arse as your shuffled onto the bed. Dripping away the extra furs and blankets, to hell with them. Daemon engulfed Harwin from behind, attacking his neck as he complained “you’ve spoil her too much,” he whispered as he let his arms roam through his paramour’s muscular body.
“And you not enough,” Harwin defended, smiling at your needy face “she is a good girl, isn’t she?” He quirks his brow at you. Your head furiously nodded, sealing the statement as you sat on your knee and back straightened. The only thing gracing your skin, a necklace made of shells and sapphires. “Organising such a wondrous feast for her lords,” he said, Daemon hummed, agreeing.
“I suppose you do deserve to be rewarded, don’t you slut,” Daemon approached you, pushing you hair away, almost petting you like a kept animal. You nodded once more. “What do you want?” he whispered against your lips.
“Both, I - I want to be full,” you looked down at your fiddling fingers “please,” you requested. Daemon audibly growled from the back of his throat. His forehead falling to rest against yours, the insatiable want you had just voiced was one too sinful, one too familiar and yet untouched in years.
“It’s been long pet, perhaps we should wait before using you so…” the excited smile that adorned your lips downturned entirely to a frown and pout. You nudged your nose at Daemon hoping he would agree, convince Harwin that you could do it.
“Please, I’ve been so empty,” you reached forward to palm at Harwin’s crotch. He hissed, succumbing to your eyes per usual.
“If you are hurt-“
“I will tell you, I promise,” you perked up once more.
Your arse soon oiled slick as you laid engulfed between both men, what began with little resistance from your part, with no hurt or weeping. Both took turns pistoning at your hole. Just as Daemon breached your rosebud as Harwin’s cock remained nestled in your cunny, you peak swiftly washed out you. Yet perhaps an hour or even two after you pushed against Harwin, weeping and dizzy as you recovered from yet another peak. There was no place to run as your laid sandwiched in between Harwin, your leg thrown over his thigh as Daemon fucked your bottom from behind.
As though performing tricks both took you apart in the filthiest of ways, Harwin showering you with compliments as he moaned and coddled you with each thrust, Daemon - Daemon left no word unturned within the crass knowledge of his words. His slut, his whore that he trained from firsthand. His palm curled against your throat as he fucked your arse raw; “there’s no running ilbitsos,” he grunted against your ear. “You love this, arse gaping for me to fuck, cunny sopping wet for Harwin.”
Your mouth parted to perhaps mewl some more and construct a sentence yet your tongue felt heavy, “seems we might have fucked our sweet girl daft,” Harwin added, pinching at the pebbles nipples brushing against his chest. Daemon laid two sharp smacks on your rear to elicit an answer, you weren’t sure if you did or perhaps if it was coherent. You blinked away tears as you rambled about loving their cock or being the silly whore but little mattered against the building pressure in your belly, yet again.
“Shh, just let it happen,” Harwin groaned as he felt you fight against them again, there wasn’t a warning this time. Harwin in turn curled his palm around throat as Daemon lowered to pull in your belly towards him while the other free hand found your engorged pearl, unsheathed from its hiding as he flicked his thumb at the throbbing nub. He could swore your arse pulsed the same way the pink coil of nerves did. You screamed, crying out as the fucked you only that much harder. There was only moments of pleasurable agony as the flow of your peak burst right through, literally.
“Fuck, she’s going to milk my cock dry,” Daemon exclaimed, “dumb slut just hungry to be filled with noble seed, isn’t she,” he groaned feeling your peak drench his cock and the sheets bellow as Harwin and him fucked your pliant body through the finish. Their own cocks soon after twitching to completion as they intertwined their hand with one another’s, sticky warm seed flooded your cunt and rosebud, they heaved in unison and you - you were gone. The brunt of the peak pulled you far away from shore, your breathing the only indication that they indeed had not fucked you to death.
When you awoke, your limbs no longer tingled but you were warm, and heavy. You heard shuffles of feet, the sound of wood - doors opening and closing until your eyes opened. Your body curled tightly against Daemon as you sat in between his legs, dozing to consciousness from the thorough exertions they put you through you whined once more. “Shh, it’s over sweet girl,” he whispered, his fingers caressing your arms. While Daemon wasn’t one for words he was sure to purchase another necklace for your efforts tonight.
Harwin from the other end rubbed a wash cloth against your face, washing away the tears, drool and snot covering your face. Whispering sweet words as he always did as the attendants stripped the linens for fresh ones. Only this night there was no need for a fresh stoked fire for you had both laying on either side of you.
#daemon targaryen x reader#harwin strong#harwin strong x reader#harwin x reader#daemon targaryen x reader x harwin strong#daemon smut#harwin smut#daemon fic#house of the dragon#hotd smut#hotd imagine#hotd fanfic#sir harwin#harwin breakbones strong#harwin imagine#ser harwin strong#harwin breakbones#ser harwin x reader#prince daemon targaryen#daemon#daemon fanfic#daemon x reader
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I will miss you both forever
good people die first.
#Harwin Strong#harwin breakbones strong#Lucerys Velaryon#lucerys targaryen#house of the dragon#hotd#asoiaf#a song of ice and fire
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#house of the dragon#ser harwin strong#I Knew this was gonna happen but it was too soon#I wanted at least one more episode with him#harwin x rhaenyra#rhaenyra x harwin#rhaneyra targaryen#harwin strong#harwin breakbones strong#hotd spoilers
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Hi babe, congrats on your milestone!❤️
It's so hard to pick between all these choices😩
Would you please write for Harwin Strong - spanking🧎🏻♀️
Win some, lose some (Harwin Strong x Reader)
Summary: Harwin and his wife have a disagreement over communication skills. The end result is exactly as the title says.
Warnings: Mature language. Spanking. Established dom/sub dynamics. Light aftercare. I'm not sure it counts as smut but smut?
Requested: Yes! I get it, tough choices. Hope you enjoy!
A/N: Due to a mistake on my part, I did not erase the space for spanking on time. I got two requests. So, Alicent anon, don't worry. I will write yours too, but I will try to space it out to not post two similar fics.
You sit on a small armchair by the fire with a sullen expression. Nerves pool on your stomach, but they are quickly won over by the feelings of annoyance. You have been told you will get punished after he is done working, but you are more angry than scared. You did act out to get his attention, and even then, Harwin cannot even pretend to care. He is just treating your punishment as another task in a long list he has to fulfill before going to bed.
Harwin sits at his desk, going over something that has countless numbers and math. A budget, most likely. You know the Master of Coins has been pressuring the gold cloaks into tightening their belts, or so to speak.
The transition of leadership has not been an easy thing. Many of the men were loyal not to their cause, protecting the citizens of King’s Landing, but to their previous Commander.
You do not begrudge Harwin for taking the position. It was an honorable one, being the Lord Commander of the City Watch. It spoke of the trust both his father and the King had in his abilities at combat and leadership. Yet… You can’t help but feel that the change has taken its toll on your marriage.
He is always busy. Gone are the days that you would spend lazing around in bed or curled together by the fire. Or even the days Harwin took you for a ride or hunt. Now, he comes to your shared rooms at odd hours, and gets up every day at the crack of dawn.
You try to remind yourself that Harwin is a busy man, and that his attention and opinions are required elsewhere. The men need him to direct the training exercises, the council wants his input for the security of the King as he visits the small folk. It’s a good thing.
You squirm in your seat, pouting. Harwin looks up from his papers and tuts.
“Don’t. You will only get yourself in more trouble if you keep pouting.”
“I just don’t think I deserve to be punished.” You answer, bravely. And it’s the truth. You don’t feel like you deserve a punishment. Why did you have to obey his silly rules when he was not there to witness the consequences of your disobedience? What was the point, even? Harwin was never home.
“I doubt that’s your decision to make. If it depended on the rule breakers, all the cells would be empty.” Harwin’s voice was collected and calm. Cold, even. Yet, it was not that what made your blood boil. His words were. The comparison. It reminded you of the reason all of this started. Why did he have to bring work into everything? It seemed that even in your time together, he was not fully present. He simply cared more about his job than he cared about his wife.
“… You said I was allowed to stay in your study if I didn’t distract you.” You retorted, gritting your teeth. Your whole face was heating, not in shame but anger. Your ears were burning, your neck felt hot, and you were about to do something that you would really regret. Closing your eyes, you breathed in deeply.
“And what did you do?” Harwin put the parchment and quill down. He looked at you for the first time. His expression was unreadable. You thought of getting up and grabbing that dammed budget and tearing it to pieces.
“I was not distracting you! I was only… Playing with myself.” And what if you were? Really. It could hardly be called that. You had only been squeezing your thighs together. And perhaps rolling your hips a little. “And I never touched myself!”
Why did you have to obey his silly rules? He was never here. The prohibition for touching yourself had started as a fun way to spice up your bedroom activities. Harwin enjoyed your neediness, when you had not been touched for a while. You suspected he also enjoyed the idea of being the only one that got to touch you in such a way.
Before, it had not been hard to comply. As any self-respecting young maiden, fearful of the Seven, you had never even approached a hand towards your cunny. Only for washing yourself, and never lingering or exploring too much.
Harwin had been the one who had introduced you to the pleasures of the flesh. It had been him who had encouraged you to explore all the wondrous feelings your body had to offer. Doing it without him seemed silly. You had touched yourself at his instance, and found great pleasure, but it was not the same that when it was his hands on your skin.
But after nearly a month of not being able to have sex with your husband, you understood exactly why you would want to please yourself. You craved the release. Even if you knew it would not be the same, you were so desperate, any peak would be better than no peak. Even if it were one brought on by yourself.
It was hardly your fault. Anyone would feel aroused after nearly a month with only stolen kisses to get you by. The sight of your husband in only a linen shirt and pants, bent over his desk had been too much. Watching as the muscles of his back flexed, how his big hands swallowed the quill he was using to take notes. All that, mixed with the goblet of wine you had been nursing and the fact that Harwin had handed you his cloak to keep warm. Surrounded by his smell, inhibitions lowered by the wine, it was a miracle you had not jumped his bones yet.
You felt like you were burning up with need. So you squeezed your thighs a little, and rubbed against the edge of your chair. You didn’t try to be subtle, secretly hoping that the sight of your neediness might entice him to do something about it.
“That’s hardly better, little one. You were purposefully looking for loopholes.” Harwin said, oblivious to your thought process. He wore a stern expression that made you want to fold immediately.
A month, you reminded yourself. You had been feeling alone for a month.
“I know, but you had not been paying attention to me!” You complained, steeling yourself. This was a discussion you truly wanted to have beyond brattiness. It had not only been the lack of marital duties, but you missed spending time with him.
It comes out whinier than you intended. Much more pitiful, too. You don't realize, but Harwin's mood immediately shifts, from playful to serious. He can tell this is truly bothering you.
Harwin pulled his chair back and spread his legs slightly. Your mouth nearly watered at the sight of his thighs spread in a pose that was so dominant.
“Come here.” He ordered, brows pinching together. You didn't want to, knowing only punishment could await from your defiance. But you still did. Once you were in front of him, Harwin caressed your cheek with his thumb. “Was my poor wife feeling neglected?”
To your horror, your eyes started to feel watery.
“You spend all your time with the gold cloaks. Never with me.” Then, in a whisper so small, it tugged at Harwin's heartstrings. “Do you not want me anymore?”
“I had not noticed you missed me so.” He confesses, pulling you into his lap. His touch is gentle, as always. His hands feel warm and solid against your waist. You straddle one of his thighs, still pouting. Harwin pulls you even closer. “I will make time for you, from now on.”
“Thank you.” You mutter shyly on his neck. It's what you needed to hear. You stay on his lap for a while, cuddling in silence. The steady thump of his heart and his warmth comfort you. It's something you have deeply missed.
Despite wanting nothing more than just curl into his lap and sleep the night away, you still feel restless. Your button throbs between your legs, wanting attention. You cannot help but wonder what it would feel like, getting ravished by your husband after so long. How his hands would feel on your skin, deliciously calloused. How his face would pinch in the sweetest agony. How he would sound, entering you.
Would he be capable of sliding right in, with how wet you are? Or would Harwin have to open you up as he had done on your first night together?
You squirm. Harwin, thinking you are uncomfortable, shifts you to sit properly on his lap, resting his forehead on top of your head. The casual display of strength makes even more wetness gather between your thighs.
“Are you alright, Wife?” Harwin starts running his hand over your hair, soothingly. He is unable to see your expression, and you are glad for it. You are so embarrassed it's starting to be physically painful. Here is Harwin, trying to comfort you, and you can't think of anything else but getting him into bed.
"You are much too pretty to be shedding tears over the likes of me. I apologize, for being so lacking lately. I have been paying so much attention to my duties with the King and forgotten about my most important ones.”
“Harwin…” That he regrets it had not even crossed your mind. Too blinded by your feelings, you had never thought about how your outburst would make him feel.
“As your husband, I made a vow. To be always yours. To protect you. I have not fulfilled either of those duties, being so far away.” He whispers, very quietly. You want to reassure him, but are unsure how.
“You always come home to me.” You go back to your previous position, straddling his thigh, to be able to look him in the eyes. It breaks your heart. His brown eyes are all hurt puppy.
“Perhaps physically. But my mind is still away, even when by your side. It's not right. You are my Lady. Mine to cherish. I have been a poor husband to you.” And it is true. You had thought about it, using much harsher words. Harwin clearly didn’t mean to hurt you, but you had been trying to rile him up on purpose. It makes you feel awful. You don’t want him to feel bad about himself, you just wanted to air out your frustrations.
“Never say that. Never.” You muttered, fiercely, touching your forehead to his. “I have never thought you a bad husband.”
“Only because you are too kind. I will do better, Wife.”
You sigh, knowing it's no use contradicting him. Instead, you pull him in for a kiss, hoping he can hear all you cannot say. The kiss starts to get heated very soon, his hands grasping greedily at your hips. It has been a month since you had the time to do more than just kiss. Time to play one of your games. Both of you crave it, need it.
As you pull apart, you give him a naughty little grin.
"I still broke your rules.”
Harwin chuckles. His eyes have turned dark, pupils blown with lust.
“Dirty girl. Do you want a punishment?”
“Yes, please.” You look up at him, all starry eyed. Perhaps he will tell you to spend the night on your knees, serving him. Or perhaps you will have to obey his every command. Or, if you are very lucky, you will get to peak over and over until you pass out.
Your breath hitches in excitement. You can't wait.
“Over my lap. Hike up your nightgown.”
The words burst your bubble immediately. Your shoulders slumped and you went back to pouting. Spanking was not what you had expected. While the physical side of it was fun, a little pain to go with your pleasure, it always wore you out mentally. There was something about it that left you feeling very vulnerable.
You understood why Harwin did it, though. It was an easy way to put you in your place. Spanking you in such a manner tugged at your subconscious. It was the manner in which children were punished. He doesn’t need harsh words or much pain to force you into submission. In fact, it stings even more when he does so with gentle words. You feel silly, after it. Harwin will coo and call you his good girl, and you will melt for him and do as he says.
"But… But…” You protest, despite knowing it’s useless.
“You thought you would get something else?” Harwin asks, carefully tucking your hair behind your ears. His hands almost swallow your face. It gets you all shy. “My poor wife. Where did all your intelligence go? You know you did a poor job of communicating your needs. Instead of telling me of your loneliness, you threw a tantrum."
“I… Harwin…” You plead, looking up at him. You are not sure what you are begging for. For Harwin to guide you, perhaps. You feel helpless.
“Over my knee.”
Faced with the choice, you cannot bear the thought of disappointing him further. He is right, in a turnabout way. You could have done things different. In another life, a perfect one, you would have knocked the door to his study and asked to talk. You would have sat, like two adults, and told him you were frustrated because you missed him. Instead, you had mixed the games the two of you play with your real anger, turning into a bratty mess.
You want to fix things. To not have to think, anymore. You take off his cloak and fold it neatly. Then, you hike up your nigh shift and lay down on his lap. You rest your hands on the floor, stretching to be able to do so.
“Don't. You could hurt yourself.” Harwin rubbed your arse, gently. Warming you up. Then, without warning, his hand came down. You nearly shrieked. The sting was harsh, yet he seemed unwilling to let up. His hand came down again and again, in the same spot. You knew Harwin, though. Soon, it was not only going to sting. He liked building you up to it.
His hand moves to your other cheek, spanking you with a slightly curved hand. It hurts differently, that way. It allows him to feel the overheated skin, how the flesh wiggles with each impact.
Shame curls around your spine, twisting your stomach. You are still wet. It’s a deeply humiliating feeling. You are unable to think clearly, your mind slow and weary. As if you were treading through molasses.
“I will not make you count, but you have to behave. No trying to get away.” Harwin warned, before spanking you again. This time, you started wiggling your toes in discomfort, fighting the urge to kick and scream.
Your bottom feels already hot and abused, but Harwin is not letting up. You are really starting to hurt. Your vision starts to blur, and you try to grasp at the carpet, fighting to stay afloat. It’s no use, no use at all. Soon you are weeping with all you have.
“Are you going to stop being a good girl for me?” Harwin asks, rubbing soothingly at your shoulder blades. It’s only then that you realize you have been wiggling around, trying to get away from the pain.
“I’m… Har-…Harwin… Sorry.” You blubber, unable to form the sentence right. You want to speak, but you are crying too hard for it. You feel dumb. Look at you, a noble lady with access to the best education Westeros has to offer. You had the best tutors, a Septa all to yourself. An education fit for a Princess. Yet, you can’t create a single sentence, overwhelmed by your feelings.
Too big feelings, Harwin had called them once. You were, after all, a silly girl who needed her husband to guide her. Sometimes, your feelings get the best of you and make you unable to think clearly.
That was why you liked these games. Submitting quieted all the voices in your head. There was nothing except obedience requiring your attention. Harwin made all the tough choices and took care of you, and you could focus on only being.
“You are doing so good.” Harwin whispered, as he rubbed at the already abused skin. You hated how much it made you preen, getting praised. “So good for me. Just a little longer, and we will be done.”
You slump on his lap, defeated. The hits keep raining on your vulnerable behind, and this time you are unable to quiet down. You whine, and weep and scream, but do not move an inch. You are sweating with the effort from keeping still, and there is nothing you want more than to bang your palms against the floor in a fit of rage. But you do not. You keep still and focus on being good for Harwin.
Your mind slows down. There is nothing but the pain, and breathing through it. Like being submerged in syrup, thoughts barely form before sinking heavily. You blink, trying to focus, but are unable to. There is only Harwin.
His smell, his hands so big against you. His warm thighs under your stomach. His erection pressing against you, the way he sounds, excited little inhales at each hit. How he times them, alternating the placement in a predictable two-one count. Reliable. To care for you, hold you down, push you when you need him too.
Time drags on. Perhaps it’s only a few minutes, or perhaps hours pass. You are unable to tell. Harwin lowers you gently to the rug and lays down beside you, careful not to press into your arse.
“How are you?” He asks, tenderly brushing your tears away. You blink up at him, hazily. Still trapped in molasses, the words seem uttered from far away. You sniffle.
Harwin smiles at you. You don’t feel capable of speaking just yet. With great effort, you raise your hand and brush his cheekbone. He leans into your touch.
“I see, I see.” Harwin chuckles, and pulls you closer to him. You go willingly, nearly purring in contentment.
You drift off like that, head on his chest, nestled close to his heart.
#harwin strong x reader#ser harwin x reader#harwin smut#harwin x reader#harwin x you#harwin strong smut#harwin breakbones#harwin strong#ser harwin breakbones#ser harwin strong#cristi's bingo#sir harwin#harwin breakbones strong
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Harwin Strong, the strongest of the knights. You’ll always be my favorite one ser.
#hotd#house of the dragon#harwin strong#look at him all beautiful with his little curls#hotd 1x06#my baby daddy#house strong#harwin breakbones strong#husband#ryan corr
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Love that everyone’s losing their collective minds over Ser Harwin. I just KNOW that he loved his kids as best as he could from a distance because those boys knew in their hearts deep down that he is their actual father by blood. No words needed, he was a father to them through action.
Rhaenyra called that…bitter mother—*cough* dude…(HotD bringing out the worst in me) her white knight once, but we all know that Ser Harwin “best baby daddy” Strong was her true white knight 🥹 😭 Damn you, HBO, you need to pay ME now for all my tissue expenses.
#in some ways those kids are lucky because they got three parents doting on them#harwin strong#rhaenyra#rhaenyra x harwin#rhaewin#house of the dragon#game of thrones#jacaerys velaryon#lucerys velaryon#house targaryen#princess rhaenyra#house strong#baby daddy#hotd thoughts#ser harwin#harwin breakbones strong#he was too good to stay alive for too long#maybe Larys is adopted because Harwin and Lyonel seem like upstanding men#harwin#rhaenyra targaryen
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Not to simp on main but he is so sexy and For What!?
#the house of dragon#house of the dragon#hotd#ser harwin strong#harwin strong#harwin breakbones strong#ser harwin breakbones strong#breakbones#game of thrones#got#caught me red handed#listen i cant help it he's hot#and the scene of him decking a bunch of guys to get to Rhaenyra has me by the throat
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A match for love. Part XX.
Pairing: Harwin Strong x Female!OC.
Words: 5.2 k
A/N: sorry about the delay! I had a college thing due. Hope you like this next chapter! :)
MASTERLIST.
Ayla tightened her lips at the sight of the silent sisters prepping Lord Lyonel's body. The only thing that replayed in her mind was the last words she had said to him. A heavy tear fell from her eyes and other followed. She cursed at herself for letting her temper overcome her and say the things she had said to him, but before she could burst into sobs, she grasped at her stomach at a feeling she hadn't experienced for more than five years. A kick.
She stroked the spot where she felt it and then cleaned her tears.
"I'm fine" she whispered as if her babe could hear her then cleared her throat.
"My Lady" Ayla's head turned to Marya, one of the eldest personal attendants of the castle, she usually took care of staff and was a right hand to the Chamberlain "are you feeling unwell?" She asked, seeing that both of her hands rested on her stomach.
"I am good, Marya. I felt a kick"
"Oh, that is wonderful news, my Lady. Thank the Gods your babe is growing strong"
Ayla's eyes moved from Marya to Lord Lyonel's lifeless one on top of the prepping table, only after giving Marya a quick and thankful smile.
"My Lady, I'm sorry to bother you" Ayla looked at Marya again "but you are needed at the front gate"
Ayla gave one last look to the silent sisters, then with a sigh she and Marya exited the side room in the Sept. Ayla was seeing that all the arrangements for the service of Lord Lyonel were being met, and had sent for a messenger to give Jaena and her family the news. She was expecting the whole of House Strong to meet at Harrenhal after years of being apart and things had to be arranged.
She walked towards the gate with a lot on her mind. Guilt was the main one of them, pure guilt of having been so unwilling to consider Lord Lyonel's words in a different way. Now she had no choice but to live with the fact that one of the last things she had told his Good Father was that she didn't want to continue any kind of pleasantries with him.
Arriving at the gate, the Marshal stood next to the entrance of the long a dark hallway of the main gate, he grabbed a lit torch that hung from the holder of the hallway and motioned at Ayla to walk in front of him.
She didn't understand why she would need to go across the long and dark hallway to end at the main gate and outside of Harrenhal. As she walked the Marshal sighed.
"Pardon me if I'm speaking out of turn, but might I confide in you with a personal accounting, my Lady?"
"Of course" Ayla glanced next to her, the tall man resembled Harwin in build and style, only with a bushier beard and unseen hair under the helmet of his armor, the same one he was never seen without definitely inspired respect and a little fear in the castle.
"Lord Lyonel often spoke highly of your knowledge and brazenness during your last visit to Harrenhal" they halted their steps as the door cracked and slowly began to open "I sincerely hope you can resolve this issue" he finished with a sigh. Ayla's palms now began to sweat, wondering what could be on the other side of the door. When the doors were finally open and her eyes could adjust to the light, she focused on several carriages lined to the entrance.
When she saw the carriage door open, she almost laughed.
"Lord Simon" she saluted. Lord Simon Strong skipped down the three steps to the carriage and walked briskly to her.
"Lady Ayla" he saluted, then looked behind her to the dark hall "my most sincerest condolences for your loss"
"My loss?" She asked frowning. Behind her the marshal took a step to stand next to her and listen with interest.
"I am aware that there was a fire last night" Ayla's silence and twist of her eyebrows made the Lord continue with his words "I've also heard about the demise of Lord Lyonel, and since he's not with you, I assume your husband was also lost to the fire"
Ayla now fully glanced at the marshal, the confusion in his face was noticeable.
"And now it's my turn to assume that you've come to the service that's to be given in Lord Lyonel's honor, I'm afraid that you are a few days early, not even his daughter's Jaena and Grayce know these news, much less are on the way to the service"
"I am more than able to wait for such occasion, but I have traveled with a different purpose"
He searched into the pockets of his tunic and produced a long roll of parchment. He extended it to Ayla and looked quickly at the sigil of House Targaryen.
She undid the knot with the sigil and opened the long scroll. The parchment was adorned at the margins and was one that Ayla had rarely seen but did recognize. It was used for royal decrees.
She stopped reading after a few sentenced and folded the scroll back into itself.
"I am, by Royal decree, the Castellan of Harrenhal"
Ayla glanced at him and sighed in an annoyance she couldn't contain.
"You would be in the event of the death of the Lord of Harrenhal"
"The Lord of Harrenhal did"
"And the line of succession is very much taken care of"
"The role of Castellan does not abide to only the death of the Lord, but also his absence or inability to perform his duties"
"It's a tough road, becoming a Lord, but he will be a fine one under my tutelage. I am his mother and the warden of Harrenhal until he comes of age"
Lord Simon Strong laughed the only amused chuckle amongst them and the expecting guards.
"You cannot disregard the royal decree"
"I can abide to the Royal decree and proceed to dismiss you as the Castellan, as is the right of the rulling Lord. As previously stated you are not needed nor wanted in Harrenhal"
Lord Simon seemed to have had enough of the banter. He took a menacing step to Ayla, she was quickly protected by the marshal who positioned his body between Ayla and the Lord.
"You are taking Harrenhal hostage, you either let me in, or I will come back with a fleet of men appointed by the crown and take Harrenhal by force"
"You might as well because I will never yield my son's birthright to the people who tried to have me killed at my wedding"
"I did no such thing!" He defended too quickly, making Ayla chuckle out loud.
"Of course you did, you and Lord Mooton already tried to have me killed once, I best not find out you tried to harm me, my husband or my children or, I assure you, you will pay"
The marshal began to walk backwards, Ayla did not bother to speak her goodbyes to the Lord. The door closed behind her and the marshal walked quickly to catch up to her at the other side of the hall and into the yard.
"Is the back gate guarded?"
"It is, my Lady, I saw to that when we saw the carriages"
"Good, put all your efforts in that entrance. The front door is of no concern to be breached and the walls are definitely too high to climb"
"Mighty I ask what exactly is what you plan on doing? You've challenged the Lord to a hostile take over and you've confirmed it's just you and your children in the castle"
Ayla stared at the marshal shocked that he was questioning her.
"He knew before anyone else about the fire and the demise of Lord Lyonel, it's a three hour trip from the outskirts of the castle where he resides and the main gate. Harwin left less than an hour ago, the fire was put out six hours ago and it was demanded no raven to fly until the King knew of Lord Lyonel's demise. How does he know?"
The marshal dropped his shoulders at the question. He had heard the Lord and did thought it was suspicious, but the timing did not seem to add up. He couldn't have known instantaneously and six hours would not be enough time to load carriages and mobilize them along with the personnel the "Castellan" would need to perform his duties in the castle.
The marshal could account for suspicions of an attack on the life of Lord Lyonel, but there being a bigger plot he couldn't quite be convinced of just yet. But Ayla was very much convinced of that. Sadly, the only Strong man she trusted at the moment was her husband.
"We will barricade the back gate and the entrance to the Godswood. Then we will wait" she ordered.
"For what?"
"For my father"
Harwin landed on both of his feet just outside the courtyard gate. He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and glanced at the two guards that had accompanied him.
"Take care of the horses, it should not be long until we make our way back"
He began to walk but was stoped by the quick steps of the guard catching up to him.
"My Lord, you should not walk in the castle unprotected, specially in your state"
"I can handle myself in the dark hallways of the castle. I will return shortly"
Harwin dismissed the worried words of the guards. If he had known at that point exactly how he looked like he would've understood their concerns. With the amount of milk of the poppy he had been given to have his wounds cleaned and the lack of sleep since his departure form King's Landing a day ago, he didn't look any better than a beggar of the street of silk.
Despite his crazed appearance and fuzzy mind, he made his way to the Tower of the Hand. Inside, his confusion only grew when Grayce, already with a red and puffy face from crying saw him stumble into the tower and ran towards him.
When their bodies collided he grunted in pain, but still held his sister close to him.
Harwin pulled back and held Grayce's face with his good hand.
"Grayce" he lamented, she cleaned her under eyes with her hand "father-"
"I know" she sobbed.
Harwin looked down at her and blinked a couple of times.
"You know..." Grayce nodded, her eyes filling with tears and letting them fall freely again "how?"
Grayce tried to pull her thoughts together to answer and she hummed before she spoke, taking a deep breath to speak evenly.
"Larys just told us"
"Larys? He asked again, Grayce nodded "when?"
"About an hour ago, he said he was going to a meeting to tell the King now"
Harwin swallowed a lump is his throat, then pulled Grayce to him again.
He tried to find what she would do next, since she would need to leave the Tower of the hand. After a short talk Grayce agreed with her husband to travel to Harrenhal to the service of Lord Lyonel. They would see to their future after that.
Harwin could not comprehend how Larys not already knew, but told Grayce and the King about the demise of their father. The burning suspicion he had needed to be watered down somehow. He found himself walking the hidden passages of the Keep until he reached the dormitories of Princess Rhaenyra.
The Princess entered the room a while later and after he made sure that they would be alone, he emerged from behind the heavy curtains. Rhaenyra was surprised to see him, specially in the injured state he was in, she was quick to walk to him and take his good hand in hers.
"Harwin, I am so very sorry about your father" she lamented, her mouth twisting at the nervousness.
"I've arrived barely an hour ago with the news only to find out that my brother already knows, not only that but he knows of my father's demise even after I strictly prohibited any raven to travel with the news"
The Princess dropped Harwin's hand and walked around the room, she sighed in annoyance after a few seconds and turned to him.
"When Lord Larys gave the news, he was very much eager to present my father with the fact that a new Lord Hand would have to be appointed. Even though my father also mentioned me, as soon as the Queen presented her father as a choice, the decision was made"
Harwin took the liberty to sit down, the pain was threatening to numb not only his side but his mind.
"Why are you here?" She asked, her eyes turning to worry over his state.
"I came bearing the news and to bring my sister to Harrenhal with me"
The Princess stared blankly at him, then her mind began to run full speed with unwanted conclusions.
"And your brother knew before anyone" Harwin swallowed and moved to adjust the straps of his binding. Only then the princess noticed his immobilized arm and leaned in to take a better look at him "he also said you couldn't be accounted for"
Harwin glanced at the Princess, wondering if she was indeed implying what she was.
"I do not know how Larys found out about the fire before I arrived. What I do know is that he is not capable of what you are implying. I know he is acquainted with the Queen, but still. Lary's would never"
Rhaenyra tightened her lips at the response, then gave a sigh folding her hands together in front of her.
"We will be leaving shortly, for Driftmark" their eyes met again when Rhaenyra's voice faltered "my cousin Laena also died last night, in childbirth. The whole of House Targaryen is going and the Queen's father will meet us there to take over the post of Hand. I'm certain your brother will accompany us and the castle will be void for you to walk around freely"
"I'm not planning on staying. I knew what I was facing when I came here but in this state I'm not willing to take much chances"
"It would do you well to suspend your beliefs in this matter. Many of us are capable of things beyond everyone's assumptions"
Harwin did not wish to breathe anymore into the accusations towards his brother, but when he saw the Royal family get on a ship from the window of one of the hidden passages, his feet carried him to Larys' room.
The room was neat, it had always been Larys' trait to have things a little too organized. At his desk, Harwin didn't find anything out of place other than parchment to write, quill and ink, wax, seals. He opened a few drawers to find more of the same, his eyes only squinting at the sight of a parchment with adorned margins.
With nothing else amiss and now with certainty that his brother had just been lucky enough to hear about his father before his arrival, he exited Larys' room.
As he walked, slouched on his bad shoulder and closer to the wall, he cut the corner and walked right in front of the very last person he wished to see.
With his chest hugged by his old plate of the Lord Commander, Gwayne Hightower looked right in his eyes until a glint of recognition hit him.
"I thought you were banished from King's Landing Strong, never to return to your whore of a Princess"
Harwin's blood boiled instantly, but Gwayne was quick to throw his head back and smash his forehead right to Harwin's nose. The hit made him stumble on his feet and fall to the ground with the added bad luck of landing the weight of his body on his already injured shoulder.
He grunted at the pain and his head swirled, the frustration of not being healed enough to fend for himself gave his grunt an added gravity. With his good hand he tried to leverage himself to stand up, the task being aided by two guards who grabbed him by each arm and pulled him to his feet, a grunt of pain catching to his throat.
Now face to face and held by two guards, Harwin and Gwayne stared at each other with both anger and superiority.
"Take him to the cells" he ordered "Pray to the Gods that someone knows that you are still here, otherwise I don't think you'll be alive by the time your Princess returns from Driftmark"
The guards proceeded to drag Harwin through the back hallways of the castle, empty of any onlookers. The pain he felt from his shoulder being gripped and dragged devoided him of any coherent thoughts other than the overwhelming pain.
He was thrown into a cell and left there, mending his wounds and taking heavy breaths until the flashes of them stopped running from his arm to the rest of his body. He hadn't even noticed the pain and the way his head still rattled because of the headbutt, but he could smell and taste the blood running down his nose.
He spent the whole day there, sitting and kicking himself for having put himself in that situation. Had he found a passageway near Larys' room he would've escaped easily. He knew the movements of the cells and as soon as the sun settled, more and more bodies began to fill them. He searched on the faces of the guards that came to lock up the prisoners. In none of them he found an old ally or someone he knew.
In the dead of night, as guards paraded more prisoners to the cells, he found himself fiddling with the beetle pin that he had gotten from the marshal of Harrenhal. The stone resembling the body of the beetle caught glimpses of the lit torches every now and then, until he suddenly heard:
"The firefly" Harwin lifted his eyes to the cell directly in front of him across the narrow hall. A beaten up and scraggly looking man looked at the beetle in his hand as he gripped the bars of his cell "the firefly will give you freedom"
Harwin shuffled closer and leaned over the bars.
"Have you seen this before?" He asked, now fully showing him the beetle.
"The firefly gives his sigil, gives freedom in exchange for a favor"
"And who is the firefly it, have you seen him?" The prisoner nodded slowly.
"Some cripple"
Harwin's attention was suddenly pulled when he heard a voice he recognized. He good arm grippes the bars and he pulled himself to his feet.
"Adrian!" He yelled, then rattled the bars together making a loud noise inside the closed chambers of the cells "Adrian!" He screamed again.
When Adrian reached the cell and their eyes met, Adrian's eyes widened at the surprise of seeing his Good Brother bloody, dirty, injured and caged.
"Harwin?" He had to ask, astounded at his finding.
"Adrian" he extended his hand and Adrian quickly took it "you have to release me"
A guard approached and pushed Adrian out of the way, gripping his armor, pulling him to the exit. The man from the Vale didn't let himself be manhandled and in one quick move freed himself from the grasp of the guard and produced a tiny dagger from his belt, one that ended up in between the legs of the guard rendering him completely immobile.
"Release him, now" he demanded, his jaw tight.
"I have orders from the Lord Commander" he answered with a shaky voice.
"I don't care whose orders you have, he is the Lord of Harrenhal, do you know how much trouble it would bring the Crown if anyone found out he's here? Release him, now" he demanded again.
Harwin had not thought of what the outcome of his imprisonment would be. He was sure that Grayce would question about his whereabouts if he didn't leave with them to Harrenhal. He didn't want to think what would Ayla do if she found out about bin locked up in a cell. War was the first thing that came to mind. He could clearly see Ayla calling upon her father and his army and March to King's Landing to release him. He knew Lord Edder wouldn't say no his daughters request.
Thankfully, the guard was much too scared about the well being of his manhood and did fumble for his keys when Adrian pressed the blade more between his legs. Harwin swing his arm around Adrian's frame and allowed him to carry him out of the dungeons and to safety, not before glancing at the prisoner across the narrow hall and thinking of his words.
After a day of being imprisoned, Harwin's energy had run to it's lowest levels, when Adrian's eyes met his, he only saw the same worried frown and eyes of his wife reflected in Adrian's stare.
Adrian laid him in his bed and glanced at the door, everything would have to be resolved tomorrow, for now, Adrian sat in a chair next to the bed and gripped the helm of his sword, determined to keep his guard up for the night.
Ayla looked over at her sons with a worried frown, one she always managed to retreat when either of them look at her. Their eyes also wandered around, the three of them haunted by a sound.
The first time she'd heard the noise was in the dead of night, she carefully climbed down the steps from the son's room where she was aiding Kiran get used to sleeping and walked to the front door of the Widow's Wail. At the door, the Marshal stood guard and looked in the distance.
"What is that noise?" She asked, her hands closing an overcoat over her sheer nightgown.
"The back entrance is attempted to be breached"
Ayla was informed that a garrison of men was attempting to breach the back gate, trying to break it open with a battering ram.
The biggest of Ayla's worries was the number of men waiting to breach, the marshal had counted fifty armed men.
"Will it hold?" She asked.
"Until dawn I am certain, let us hope for your father's arrival"
Ayla had had the idea of calling upon her father when Larys last words hadn't left her mind in the carriage. Kylian had seen her pinching on her lower lip, lost in thought.
"Father doesn't like it when you do that" she stopped, now looking at her son with his head buried in a book he'd brought but could only read when the carriage wasn't moving "are you nervous?"
"I'm thoughtful"
"What about?" Kylian closed the book and moved to sit closer to his mother, Ayla placed a hand at the top of his head and twirled his curls in her finger.
"About something that was said" Kylian held his stare, beckoning her to keep talking "words matter, I am sure you're aware"
"I guess" he replied with a shrug of his shoulders, Ayla smiled and leaned closer to her son.
"If I say 'when we get to Harrenhal we will revise some lessons' what am I saying?" Kylian stared at her blankly "what if I saw that we might revise some lessons?" Now Kylian smiled with complicity.
"That we might not"
"One is a certainty and one gives room for another option to take place, right my love?"
"Yes mother" he was quick to nod, Ayla smiled sweetly at Kylian and leaned over his head to kiss him.
"Could you get your father for me please?"
Kylian stood, but stopped and gave his mother a mischievous smirk.
"I could..." He teased. Ayla chuckled at his quick learning.
"Go and get your father for me, please"
"Yes mother" now Kylian answered and exited the carriage, Ayla stood from her seat and walked to the door of the carriage. The party had been halted for a quick lunch, but Ayla had remained in her carriage where she was comfortable. She saw Kylian run into the camp.
Harwin emerged from the lines, no sight of Kylian with him. At the sight of her husband in his riding leathers, she climbed down one of the steps and ended up at his same height.
Harwin's eyes first landed on her stomach. Both of his hand gripped her waist and his eyes met hers.
"Are you feeling well?" He asked with a little worry in his voice.
"I am. Fret not" Ayla rounded his shoulders, the height advantage she had on him and pressed what she could of her chest to his "I had a request, I hope it's not much trouble"
"Nothing coming from you will ever be trouble. Tell me" Ayla smiled and stole a quick kiss from her husband.
"I was wondering if you could send word to my father that we will be at Harrenhal. A regiment is due to train there and I wish to see him"
"Of couse my love. Whatever you want"
The anxiousness Ayla felt from the sound of the door being banged by the battering ram increased with the pass of time. Kylian and Kiran were aware of the breach but when their mother told them their grand-sire was on the way, their worries lessened.
Ayla spent the rest of the day looking at the main gate. Because Harrenhal was so big the garrison would be able to enter the main gate and not be seen by Lord Simon on the other side.
The relief Ayla felt was immesurable when she heard the guards on the watch tower scream "banners!" and the doors slowly opened.
The sight of her father with his armor and a red mantle over his shoulder and the men from the Vale slowly filing into the courtyard of Harrenhal released her chest from the tension she'd felt for hours.
Lord Edder was immediately approached by the marshal as he climbed off his horse. Ayla saw from the inside of the castle the marshal relay to him the information until he was cut off with one motion of Lord Edder's hand, walking towards the Widow's Wail.
For days, the loss of Lord Lyonel had struck her as if she had lost her own father. Now, seeing him alive and walking towards her made her break into tears. Her father rounded her and Ayla fisted the mantle of his shoulder as she hugged herself to him.
"Ayla my girl" he pulled back and cupped Ayla's face and made her look at him "Ayla, breath" she took a deep and faltering breath "I've been told about the breach, where is Lord Lyonel?"
That only made Ayla choke on her breath once more. Lord Edder soothed her by rubbing his hands over her shoulders.
"He died"
Even over her tears, Ayla had never seen her father frozen with shock. His shoulders squared and his hands remained still on her shoulders.
"How?" He asked after a full minute of being quiet.
"In a fire, two nights ago"
"And Harwin?"
"He's left for King's Landing to tell the King. He didn't wish to send a raven. And now Lord Simon comes with a royal decree to take over Harrenhal as it's Castellan" she complained.
"Do not worry about that"
"I tried to buy some time until you arrived"
"You did good, Ayla. I will take care of it. When is Harwin due to return?"
Ayla's mind slowly cleared as her father asked her questions, but she was still crying and taking intermittent breaths.
"He left after his father's death, at first light"
Lord Edder did not ask any more questions. He rubbed his hands on her shoulders again and leaned in to kiss her on the forehead. He didn't worry her with his thoughts of Harwin's absence and, even more important, his overdue return. If anything, a trip back and forth shouldn't have taken him a full day.
When he turned, both Kylian and Kiran were expectantly looking at his grandsire. Lord Edder smiled at them, the boys did not resemble the small children he had met five years ago. Even though it was know that the boys had more Strong resemblance, Lord Edder saw a lot of his own children in their factions.
"How grown you two are" he complimented, his hands running over their hair "what do you two know about siege tactics?"
"A lot" Kylian was the first to reply.
"Truly? We might put some to work, come" he placed his hands over their shoulders but the boys were quick to grab them in theirs.
"Not too close from trouble, father" Ayla pleaded. Lord Edder gave her a look over her shoulder and a quick wink.
Kylian and Kiran walked with their grand-sire to the yard and promptly marveled themselves at Lord Edder giving away commands.
Though the arrival of Lord Edder did bring her relief and security, now her focus shifted to her husband. She was counting on his presence even before her father's. Even if Lord Simon did manage to breach and take over Harrenhal, without Harwin to impose himself as Lord, her and the children would have to abide to the Royal decree.
In the children's room atop the Widow's Wail, her eyes remained on the horizon. She was interrupted by a knock on the door and the straightened over her wide chair to look at her father in the doorway.
"I've been told you are to stay away from any and all set of stairs" he scolded, walking towards her and taking a seat in a wide chair next to hers, sighing at the comfort.
"I like the height advantage. Despite this tragedy and my own fears, this babe is behaving like the others. We're good" she said, her hands soothing over her stomach up and down to the base of it, marveling at the size that she had accomplish after many years "I've been feeling as if I had lost you" tears piled up in a rush in her eyes, a hand appeared on top of hers and her stomach and Ayla held it tight "I cannot believe this happened. And now I have to live with the fact that I was horribly intolerant to Lord Lyonel" she complained "and I loved him like a father"
"I am sure he knew my girl. He knew you in your ways and I'm sure he didn't take your words, whichever they were, to heart"
With a sigh and a hand cleaning her tears, Ayla decided she shouldn't cry anymore and keep herself focused and strong.
"We will be breached" her father sentenced.
"Yes, we will. I am counting on it. Lord Simon thinks it's only me and the boys in the castle. He doesn't account for your presence and much less Harwin's. He believes him dead. Without this breach I cannot threaten him to stay away from us"
"Your husband does have to be here for that moment" Ayla sighed again and her eyes scanned the horizon, the sun descending slowly from its highest point in the sky and threatening to set quickly.
"I know. He will"
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#ser harwin breakbones#harwin strong x reader#harwin breakbones strong#harwin strong x oc#harwin strong#daddy harwin#ryan corr#fic rec#series#ser harwin strong#ser harwin x reader
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Will forever be envious of Rhaenyra being with Harwin. I think we can all agree that the Dom in bed wasn't her. Sir DID NOT hesitate to pull her over his shoulder as if she were nothing but a bag. Took charge faster than anyone in the room. Hottest shit I've ever seen. He was rough, I just know he was. She must've had the time of her life.
Excuse my perverted lusting lol
#house of the dragon#rhaenyra targaryen#hotd#ser harwin strong#sir harwin strong#harwin strong#harwin x rhaenyra#rhaenyra x harwin#harwin strong x rhaenyra targaryen#queen rhaenyra#breakbones strong#harwin breakbones strong
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Please write about Harwin being married to Rhaenyra's sister. When the kids' fight happens in Driftmark, it's their son who attacks Aemond because he was defending his cousins and brother, who were fighting with Aemond and because he called them bastards. When Harwin and her arrive at the hall, they see everyone judging their kids, so they get protective over them, and the reader is the one to stand up against Alicent with the dagger, while Harwin protects their sons by hiding them behind him.
ooooh I love this! I hope I gave your idea justice!
Armor
warnings: f!targaryen!reader, fighting, not proofread, reader has children with harwin strong, no use of Y/N
summary: aemond loses an eye to your sons, but your only concern is protecting your family.
author’s note: I loved this request so much! I also tried to not make it an exact replica of the actual scene, and I didn’t want to make the names of the children the same as Rhaenyra’s, so they will be unnamed lol.
You practically sprinted down the corridors, fear driving your every step. Your hands grasped your nightgown to keep the fabric out of the way, wanting nothing to slow you down. You faintly registered the sound of thundering footsteps behind you– Harwin– but you were so focused on your mission it was as if he wasn’t even there.
When you reached the doors to the chamber, you pushed them open with all of your might, slightly stumbling into the room. All heads turned your way as you frantically searched for your sons.
“Boys!” You cried out, rushing over to them as you spotted them. They were standing by Rhaenyra and Daemon, with one of Rhaenyra’s hands on each of their shoulders. Their faces showed clear signs of relief as you hurried over to them and crouched down to their level, pulling them to you in a fierce embrace.
The room was silent as they watched the display before them. Harwin was right behind you, a hand resting on your shoulder as you squeezed your children. They put up no fight– they were as relieved to see you as you were to see them.
You pulled back from them after you were sure they wouldn’t be ripped away from you. Your hands cupped the cheeks of your youngest, turning his chin this way and that as you examined his bloodied face.
“What happened?” You asked him softly, concerned.
“Your children,” Alicent spat the words from somewhere behind you. You didn’t bother turning to look at her; you kept your gaze focused on the two boys in front of you. “Attacked my son.”
“I’m sure that whatever they did, they did in self defense.” Harwin spoke up, crossing his arms over his chest.
You two had been sleeping when a servant had abruptly entered your quarters to tell you the news. You hadn’t had the mind to make yourself more presentable, and neither had your husband.
You both stood in your nightclothes, and as you rose to stand beside your husband, you realized how underdressed you were compared to the rest of the room.
Alicent scoffed from her place by her wounded son. You watched them as you snaked a hand around one of Harwin’s arms. He looked down at you briefly before turning his attention back to Alicent.
“It was not self defense, it was planned and it was an attack. Your sons and Daemon’s girls cornered him and beat him–” she began, but was swiftly cut off by your eldest.
“He called us bastards!” Your eldest cried in outrage, pointing a finger at Aemond.
The room fell deathly silent. Your grip on Harwin’s arm tightened dangerously. Fury seethed through your veins at the false accusation.
It was not the first time you had heard those words. Alicent and the greens had been attempting to undermine you and Rhaenyra for years, but tensions were growing as you all grew older. With your father’s rapidly declining health, both sides were preparing to take the throne. Therefore, Alicent had recently taken to spreading lies throughout the castle about you and your sister. She never outright said anything, of course– but she had planted seeds that had grown quickly in the underbelly of the Red Keep.
“My children,” you began, gaze trained on Alicent with a murderous glint in your eyes. “Are not bastards. To insinuate that they are is treason.”
“That does not excuse what your children did to my son. He’s lost an eye over words!” Alicent cried, taking a few steps towards you. Harwin moved to stand in front of you as you pulled your children behind you.
The doors to the chamber creaked open once more as the King clambered into the room. He looked angry as he made his way towards his wife.
“What is the meaning of this?” He shouted, looking first to Alicent and then to you.
“Your grandchildren have attacked your son–" Alicent began, but you stepped out from behind Harwin.
“Your son called my children bastards–” you started with narrowed eyes, but Viserys interrupted you.
“Boys,” he spoke, taking a step towards your children. They peeked their heads out from behind you to see the King. “What happened?”
“Aemond took Vhagar, and he was insulting Rhaena and Baela, so I told him to stop but he said he would not listen to a bastard.” Your eldest spoke, and as soon as he finished, clamor rang throughout the room.
“Quiet!” Viserys roared. The room slowly quieted as the King moved towards Aemond.
“Aemond, I want no lies.” He told the boy as he stood in front of him. Aemond looked up at the king with his remaining eye, and it was then that you got a good look at what had happened.
You inhaled sharply at the sight of Aemond’s wound. You knew then that whatever your sons had done to Aemond had been what he deserved.
“I called them bastards,” the boy confirmed, eye glancing over the King’s shoulder towards your family. “And then the older one hit me.”
“See?” Alicent cried, a hand landing on her younger son’s shoulder. “You daughter and her family have no respect! Her children attacked your son and took his eye over words–” she began again, but you would not have it.
“Quite serious words,” you muttered, which caused Alicent to turn on you.
“Enough to maim my son? He has lost his eye! Your children only lost their pride–”
You surged forward, a few feet separating you from the Queen now. All eyes watched the two of you. Harwin made no move to intervene. Instead, he stood protectively in front of your children, a hand going back to keep them from moving forward.
“Perhaps he should lose his other,” you seethed, watching her. “You have constantly belittled my husband and I. You look down upon us, you slander us, and now you turn on my children?” Your voice was shaking with anger, your fists clenched at your sides.
“Viserys,” Alicent called to her husband. “Do you hear this? This is a clear threat to the life of your child!”
“I am also his child!” You shouted, taking another step towards her. Alicent’s eyes widened. “You so badly wish to play the victim, and I tire of it. My family and I have tried to stay out of your way, and still you always find a way to accuse us of something.”
Alicent laughed in disbelief. “I, the victim? Your sons are whole– they are fine. My son will never heal!” She glared at you for a moment before speaking again. “I shall have one of their eyes, as payment.”
“You will not.” You spoke firmly. You heard movement behind you as Rhaenyra and Daemon moved to surround your children in a little huddle. “Should you even try to lay a hand on my sons, you will lose the hand.”
“Another threat,” Alicent huffed in disbelief. “Viserys–”
The King, who had been standing to the side unsure of what to say, moved to stand between the two of you cautiously. He was torn between the pair of you– Alicent was his Queen, but you were his second daughter.
“I will hear no more of this,” Viserys said, unable to pick a side. “All children will be dealt with by their parents, after sincere apologies have been made.”
Alicent was hysterical now as she shook her head. “This is not justice!” She shouted, eyes flitting around the room in search of support. “I will take their eyes myself!” She moved forward then, and without a second’s thought, you acted.
You reached forward, hand wrapping around the dagger strapped to your father’s waist. You unsheathed it and held it up as Alicent raised her hands to you. Chaos erupted, voices yelling in surprise and children screaming, but you couldn’t hear any of it.
The roar of the room dimmed as you stared into Alicent’s eyes, your hands shaking with force as you tried to push the dagger towards her.
“I will kill you before you touch them,” you whispered to her, eyes wide with adrenaline as her hands locked around your wrists and tried to push you away.
“You have become someone I do not recognize.” She told you, eyes sparkling with unshed tears.
“As have you. And now they will all know how you spin tales–”
“Enough!” Viserys shouted again, bringing you back to the present.
You shoved Alicent back then, dropping the dagger to the floor. She stumbled backwards as you stepped back, an arm wrapping around your shoulders. Harwin. You looked up at him and he gave you the smallest smile.
He had never seen you so fierce– so protective over the ones you loved. And he was proud to know that you would always stand up for your family, even against the Queen herself.
“This infighting must cease! We are Targaryens– I will have no more of this constant bickering!” Viserys was yelling, but you paid him no mind as Harwin steered you back to your children.
Rhaenyra and Daemon stepped aside as you pulled your boys into your sides, a hand on each of their shoulders, holding them tightly.
“Good job,” Rhaenyra whispered into your ear with the ghost of a grin. You nodded once in response.
People began filing out of the room, slowly but surely. With no more dramatics to keep them consumed, they began to feel the late hour. You refused to move as you watched them go, your hands clutched around your children. Harwin stood protectively in front of the three of you, watching the passersby like a hawk.
Rhaenyra and Daemon also stood by your side. Rhaenyra placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. Daemon said nothing, but the fact that he had remained spoke volumes. He was notorious for disappearing at the worst times.
You only moved when everyone else had left the room, including Alicent and her children. She had not even spared you a glance as she ushered her sons and daughter from the room.
With the room empty, Harwin relaxed his guard slightly. He turned to you and gave a small nod. “I believe we should get these boys back to bed.”
You nodded in reply, removing your hands from your children. Rhaenyra and Daemon bid you goodnight before they slipped from the chamber together.
Harwin placed a hand at the small of your back, gently guiding you to the door. Your children walked a pace in front of you, that way you could watch them at all times.
“You did well,” Harwin whispered to you, leaning down to brush his lips against your ear.
“I have certainly made us an enemy,” you deadpanned.
“They were already enemies,” Harwin assured you, his eyes flicking back to the boys. “Anyone who tries to harm them is an enemy.”
“I agree.” You told him.
You both fell silent for a moment as you gathered your thoughts. Although you had seemed brave standing up to the Queen in a room full of people– you were now terrified.
You had no clue what she would do or say about what had happened. She would certainly spin things so that you were the evil one. You wrung your hands in anxiety– not so much for yourself, but for your kids. Your husband. You would do anything for them.
“I think the boys should stay in our quarters tonight,” your voice was quiet as you spoke to your husband. Harwin nodded with no protests.
“Of course.”
The four of you made your way back to yours and Harwin’s quarters. The boys were ecstatic to sleep in such a big bed, and you couldn’t help but laugh as they went back to their childish ways. It was as if the events of the last hour hadn’t occurred.
When you finally got them to lay down, you could not sleep. You sat in a nearby lounge, your eyes trained on their sleeping figures. You feared what would happen if you looked away for even a second.
“My love,” Harwin spoke softly as to not rouse the children. He had been speaking to someone in the corridor– a trusted guard, perhaps. When he reentered the room he came straight to you, crouching down to your side. “You must get some rest. Tomorrow will be long.”
You shook your head. “I do not trust her. What if she has something wicked planned?”
“She would not dare,” Harwin assured you. “Not tonight.”
You did not respond. Harwin sighed heavily, one of his hands reaching for your own. You allowed his touch, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin.
“I have a trusted watchman stationed at our door. No harm will come.”
You still did not move.
“I will stand watch,” he finally said. You knew he didn’t mind standing watch, but of course he would prefer to sleep– you didn’t blame him.
But you couldn’t shake your fears, and so you nodded.
“Thank you, my love,” you told him, turning your head to face him. He smiled, and you leaned forward to press your lips to his.
It was a short but sweet kiss, and exhaustion crept over you when you pulled away. Harwin helped you up from the lounge and guided you to the bed. You stifled a laugh as he rolled one of the boys over, making room for you.
“Sleep well,” he whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.
“I’ll make this up to you,” you told him. He grinned.
“I’m sure you will.”
You rolled your eyes, but you were thankful for his lightheartedness. He left to go sit on the lounge, and you closed your eyes, letting sleep finally take you.
#game of thrones#hotd fic#house of the dragon x reader#house of the dragon#game of thrones fic#harwin strong#harwin x reader#ser harwin#harwin breakbones#harwin breakbones strong#ser harwin strong x reader#harwin strong x reader#ser harwin strong#harwin strong fic#viserys targaryen#targaryen reader#targaryen!reader#rhaenyra targaryen#rhaenyra x daemon#alicent hightower#daemon targaryen#fanfic#one shot#harwin breakbones x reader
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I already knew Aemond would grow to be a POS but that nasty shit he said about burning like their father 🤬🤬🤬 (and I assume it's barely been 2-3 weeks since the end of last ep)
Simultaneously I'm glad Jacerys still felt loyalty to Harwin and while I don't think Lucerys connected the dots he was still clearly experiencing loss when refusing Corlys
#spoilers#aemond targaryen#harwin breakbones strong#strong bastards#jacerys velaryon#lucerys velaryon#hotd#house of the dragon
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so im writing some rhaenyra x harwin fic and i sent it to the bestie ofc to see and they said i really captured the way he is luxuriating in her presence and i will throw up abt it
#im so obsessed w him#truly brain rot to such a staggering degree#harwin strong#ser harwin strong#harwin breakbones strong#harwin strong x rhaenyra targaryen#harwin x rhaenyra#rhaenyra targaryen#house of the dragon#ezra writes and talks
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Only Rhaenyra and Ser Harwin could birth them
Well dressed like their father too:
#Jacaerys Velaryon#Jacaerys Targaryen#Lucerys Velaryon#Lucerys Targaryen#house of the dragon#hotd#fire and blood#Harwin Strong#harwin breakbones strong#Rhaenyra Targaryen#rhaewin
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who cares about criston cole when we got harwin breakbones strong?
#harwin strong#criston cole#rhaenyra targaryen#breakbones#house strong#house of the dragon#hotdedit#harwin breakbones strong#larys strong#house targaryen
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